Nipper's story
by lonewolfblood13
Summary: How much do you really know about Nipper the cheeky runt of the gang. This is Sam Matterson's story. Rated T for neglect
1. Chapter 1

Sam was hungry. And not the 'oo I could do with a snack' hungry; he hadn't eaten in over a week. The boy hadn't been this hungry before, and he had lived in a workhouse for the whole five years of his life on planet earth. After all that time he was finally out. In his own opinion he was pretty smart; all his life he had been good and honest. Five years later they trusted him to go and get the doctor during an outbreak of measles. Of course he never got that far. Like I said he wasn't an idiot; he went down an alley and the workhouse staff never saw him again.

That was two months back; he had barely eaten a mouthful in that whole time. At first he would dip his hand into the pockets of rich folk but now he was amazed he still had enough strength to lift his own head. Sam started shivering as the snow started drifting around him. Maybe that would get him more sympathy from passer byes, he doubted it though. They hadn't before after all. He hated them all; they had money to spare but they could still watch as a boy not yet six (he thought) starved to death.

Slowly but surely his eyes closed and he keeled over… asleep.

_Jab… jab…_

Somebody was tapping him with their foot, it was a pity; his dream had been a good one. His mother had been there, he was warm and happy as she sang a lullaby to him. Still he had to admit it; someone was tapping him. Sam opened his eyes as slowly as he possibly could.

"Oi, little un," said a boy no more than four years his elder. "Open your peepers… well get up then." His arm was thrust towards his face. Sam grabbed at it pathetically but somehow managed to get onto his feet. His legs were wobbly and his belly felt hollow. It wasn't a good combination. "Wot's yer name then covey?"

"Sam…" he whispered weakly. "Sam Matterson."

Sam started stumbling away. This boy was a stranger to him.

"Hey, where you goin' covey. I haven't made your acquaintance yet. My name is Jack Dawkins, but I'm best known around these parts as the Artful Dodger. You can call me Dodge… you 'ungry?"

"I don't know you." Sam choked out.

"Well I know a respectable ol' gen'leman who'll give you lodgin's for nothing." The younger boy carried on walking. "His name's Fagin, ee'll take you under his wing." Jack was getting impatient. "Come on. Wot 'arm can it do?"

The dodger put a sly grin on his face and put his hand inside his jacket; "Well if you ain't gonna come with me." He drew out a small loaf of bread, Sam's eyes widened and his mouth watered. But he shook his head stubbornly.

"I ain't hungry."

"'Fraid your tum disagrees" remarked the elder boy as his belly let out an uncomfortable rumble. "Look 'ere, this is your choice; stay 'ere on the streets, be beat up by the big boys and starve to death or come wiv me, meet Fagin and do the _genteel._"

It wasn't much of a choice was it? Sam took the loaf and, taking a huge bite, followed Mr Dawkins up several alleyways, along a few lanes, across a bridge or two and then came to a stop in the middle of nowhere. The dodger crouched down, knocked on a man hole and quietly called out "Plummy and slam"

The manhole opened and Sam took a step into the unknown.


	2. Chapter 2

"Fagin, look 'ere, I've got a friend to see you."

An old man rose from the table. He wore a cheery smile as he said "So Dodger, who've we got here then?"

Sam stuck his chin out and stood as tall as he could "My names Sam Matterson sir." Another man stood up and paced towards him. The boy didn't like the look of him with his black leather jacket and cap pulled well down. His face didn't look good either, to Sam he looked slimy. The nasty man walked around him a few times before saying in a rough voice "He's a bit small eh Fagin only skin and bones on the fella."

"Mind Bill what you say. Nance herself looked dead on like this when she came in. Only with long hair Sam!" he laughed at his joke. "You'll grow up little un just like Nancy did… ah speak of the devil and she will come." The manhole opened with the standard phrase and a teenage girl slid in, whipping a few handkerchiefs out her skirts.

"Pickin's are small out there. Too nippy for any normal folk." She glared at Fagin and doing so spotted the newcomer. "Who've we got 'ere then Fagin?"

"Sam Matterson, Nance, our new recruit. Fresh off the streets…"

"I can tell Fagin. No decent clothes, covered in blood and dirt. Get the kid warm else I will."

"You know Nancy this is why I don't normally like women. They always seem to be right." He clapped his hands and turned to the two boys who were standing there like lemons watching it all happen. "Dodger, get Mr Matterson here some clothes and set him a bed. Look sharp now." Both boys darted off as if electrocuted. "What do you think of him Bill?"

"I meant wot I said already Fagin! He's a bit small for my likin' alright?!"

Silence soon joined the group and it felt like hours later when Sam and the Dodger walked in. Sam looked so different; all cleaned up with a long whitey-yellow shirt, short grey trousers, a brown cap, orange neck garment and black boots.

"Why Sam my dear!" exclaimed Fagin. "You look a different man, we must all start calling YOU sir and bowing to you, you look so fine my boy!"

The other two just nodded as the little boy, swamped in his new clothes, joined them at the table. "Here you go," said the old man as he held out a plate for the child to take.

"Wot is it?" he asked as he poked the long, thin thing.

"It's a sausage. You eat it."

"Wouldn't you like some?"

"Course 'ee wouldn't Sammy boy! They ain't kosher!" laughed Nancy as Sam started shoving it down his throat. "Careful now. It ain't goin' nowhere! Slow down, you'll choke else." Sam obeyed her instructions before trying to hide a yawn behind his hand.

"Bed I think Sam. Can't have you sleeping on the job tomorrow, can we now?" remarked the old man before handing the boy a small mug. "Drink up." Sam swallowed it quickly, it was very strong. He stood up to go to bed but sneezed and, with a runny nose, started looking for a spare handkerchief to wipe his nose. There were none he could see that didn't seem to be in use. So he walked up to the nasty man, Bill he thought his name was, and fished his out the pocket. Quickly he wiped his nose before handing it back to him.

Bill stared at the fabric in his hand then at the small boy standing next to him. "Did you just?"

The boy stared straight back. "Yep." Then turning to the open mouthed group he bid them a cheery; "Ni night." before leaving to go to bed. Behind him the three remaining people were in deep discussion. Bill Sikes stood up to leave. Just as he reached the manhole he turned back and said in the most cheery voice anyone had ever heard him say; "I like him. Got guts. Nancy you've got competition as my favourite. Goodbye."

Breaking the minute long silence the remaining man spoke the truth; "Didn't know he liked anyone eh Nance?!"

_**Reviews? Pretty please?**_


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